


The Consulting Doctor

by rachel_hk1



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 12th Doctor, Crossover, Regeneration, Wholock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachel_hk1/pseuds/rachel_hk1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Out of 12 regenerations, that’s certainly a new sensation."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

          I open my eyes and my head is pulsing. My God, I feel like a bat hit me. No a Dalek fleet. Something hard and fast paced. I feel like my whole body is achy. Almost crushed. Out of 12 regenerations, that’s certainly a new sensation.  
          Okay, check for normalcy. Okay, head? Check. Oh, curly hair! But still not ginger!  
          Okay focus, eyes, nose, mouth. Very sharp cheekbones. Interesting.  
          Arms, torso. Good, two hearts. Why am I so skinny? It’s like I haven’t eaten for weeks. Make that months. I can feel all of my ribs!  
          Focus! Legs are long. Good for running!  
          Tardis! “Oh what a beauty! You look stunning, you sexy thing!” I can’t help but look around. Two small couches by the stairs. Very nice touch. Though they don’t match. One is black and sleek yet very simple. The other is red and has a small, square pillow with a British flag design on it. Well I always seem to find myself in London so I’ve no doubt that’s what it must be.  
I realize I’m wearing suspenders with a ridiculous bowtie and I find that I dislike them. “Must change.” I find my way through the halls towards what looks like the clothes closet. Goodness! Much more here than what I remember. Okay let’s find something suitable for this new body.  
          What’s suitable…SUIT!  
          Oh here’s a nice pair of black pants, vest, and blazer. Shirt, shirt, shirt. Ah ha! Purple button up. I like this color. Okay, got those on. How about shoes? No, not converse this time. Something that goes well with my suit. Ah, black dress shoes. They’re actually comfortable! Let’s test these out.  
          I’m about to leave when I spot a blue scarf hanging by the door. I haven’t worn one of these in awhile! I snatch it and wrap it around my neck. I also grab a black coat and hang it over my shoulder as I return to the control room. I toss it over the black chair and spin around the heart of the Tardis. “Ready to go!”  
          Suddenly my chest aches and I realize there’s something missing. I look down and feel myself still finishing my transformation but that’s not what’s bothering me. What is it?  
          I look around and realize it’s just me. Alone. There’s a pang in my chest again but why should being alone surprise me? Clara left and I never picked up a new companion. But something about being alone makes me sad. Almost like I’m grieving the loss of someone. Someone I can’t quite pinpoint. Someone I…  
          Never mind. It’s time to travel! With all of my adrenaline for an adventure in my new body, I pull, pluck, twist, and spin the dials, buttons, zings and zats.  
          “The Game is on!” I shout and the Tardis takes off into space and time.


	2. Mysterious Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has been thinking about his life of the past three years, always finding that he misses Sherlock more than he can bare. Then a call from Mycroft changes everything.

      Even after three years of walking through London alone, John can never seem to see it the way he used to. Before he met Sherlock. He changed the way John viewed the world and there was no going back. No matter how much he tries to move on from his past time with the Consulting Detective, he can’t seem to shut out the thoughts about what his life would have been like if Sherlock were still here. Probably the same. Arguing with the bastard until he was blue in the face. Running around London chasing dangerous criminals. Being called an idiot, non-observant, slow.  
      And yet he misses it all. Three years and John can still hear Sherlock’s voice in his mind. Sometimes he comments on John’s lack of intrigue on a case that may appear on telly, in the newspaper, or whatever Lestrade brings up on bar nights. He can hear Sherlock deduce the reason for some stranger’s habits, their current affairs, or what they must have had for breakfast. He’ll complain about how dull his dates with Mary must have been and why he puts up with her.  
      Though John sometimes wonder why she puts up with him. The ex-soldier, ex-consulting blogger who hobbles around with his cane and still keeps a gun shoved into the back of his jeans. John continuously wonders why she agreed to marry him. He just goes through the motions, smiles on queue, makes an extra cuppa in the afternoons if he’s home before her. John truly does care about her. She’s beautiful, loving, and humourous. She certainly doesn’t have tantrums or shoot the wall out of boredom. But there’s just something missing. That excitement inside him is gone.  
      John quickly writes up his last patient’s visit and prescription before packing it all into the manila folder. After sorting it alphabetically into the drawer, he shuffles out of his office leaning on his cane.  
      Sarah pokes her head around the corner of the hallway, “Done for the day, John?”  
      “Yes, heading out with Mary tonight for a nice dinner,” John half smiles.  
      Her lips spread into a wide grin, “Oh lovely! Have a nice evening and I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?”  
      “Ta and yes you will.”  
      “Wonderful! Gotta dash,” she quickly waves a hand before disappearing down the hall.  
      John grabs his coat with a grin on his face. Sarah has always been a good friend even after their failed romantic endeavours. She even picked up extra shifts during his absence after Sherlock’s death. John knew there was no way of repaying her because she would not accept any repayment. John decided that working hard for both her and his patients would have to suffice.  
      John makes his way down the front hospital steps and is about to hail a cab when his phone buzzes in his pocket.  
      “Hello?”  
      “John, I need to meet with you about an important matter immediately. Get in the car.”  
      John’s brow wrinkles at the familiar voice as a black car pulls up in front of him, “What’s this about, Mycroft?”  
      “An urgent situation has presented itself and I need you to be informed.”  
      Before John can respond, Mycroft Holmes has hung up. John sighs and climbs into the car, deciding it was best not to argue. He checks his watch: 16:36. He still has a few hours before he needs to meet up with Mary.

*************************************  
      “Thank you for coming, John.”  
      Mycroft, in his usual suit and straightened spine, offers John a chair, which the man duly ignores.  
      “You said this was important,” John cocks his head to the side, frustration lining his voice. “What’s going on, Mycroft?”  
      The man motions to the chair again and John notices his stiff posture seems to be shaking, “I recommend a seat, Doctor Watson. You’re going to need it.”  
      John shakes his head, “No, talk quickly. I have a date to keep.”  
      Holmes sighs and grabs a remote on his desk before turning to the large, flat screen monitor on the wall. A video pops up on the telly that shows a bustling street with busy London pedestrians and cars making their way across town.  
     “The CCTV channels are placed all over the city, as you know, however they have been picking up footage of a man that we don’t know yet can instantly recognize.”  
     John stares at Mycroft, brows furrowed in confusion, before watching the screen, scanning the faces. Suddenly he spots a black coat dashing down the side of the block, quickly weaving through. The man’s long figure and dark, manic hair instantly makes John’s breath catch in his throat.  
     “I…it can’t be.”  
     Mycroft presses a button and the screen switches to a long shot of another street. John frantically searches for the dark coat through the blur of other bodies, desperately wanting to double check that what he saw was real. He immediately sees the man once he appears on the corner of the block. The man is wearing a purple button up shirt with a jacket and long coat. The face is more prominent at this angle and there is no denying who it is. John sinks into the chair behind him, mouth gaped and eyes wide.  
      “Sherlock?”


	3. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While attempting to escape from a band of aliens, the Doctor runs into...an old friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken me so long to continue this. I doubt anyone's been following it but if you have, I hope you enjoy this next short chapter! (Comments and critiques are always welcome!)

“Oh blast!”

The Doctor runs through London as the Evoss pursue him.  It’s been hundreds of years since he has seen them, though they were no where near this galaxy.  Plus they’ve evolved. They have humanoid legs which could possibly outrun him.

He quickly dodges the people on the sidewalk out doing their daily routines. Poor lot. Stuck in their dreary world yet they have so much potential. _Especially that one._

The Doctor can’t help but quickly glance at a fellow he spots ahead of him. Young, by human standards, however his fidgeting clues the Doctor into the fact that he is about to do something criminal. His grungy clothes pinpoints him as lower class however the way he holds himself says he is still getting used to that status. Lost his money gambling. His eyes are darting around the street, paranoid that someone is watching. Since the man is across the street from a bank, the Doctor can figure out where this is going.

Quickly the Doctor slows down a beat to whisper to the man, “Robbing a bank won’t solve your problems.”

Without a glance back, the Doctor runs across the street through the traffic, his coat just catching the front of the cars. He ignores the irritated, quick honks he receives and continues down the street. Farther down the block, he hears a high pitched beeping from down an alleyway and realizes the Evoss are attempting to surround him. They are definitely faster with those new legs.

Within seconds, he flies through the next pair of double doors he sees and dashes down the hallway. The sterile smell makes him stop dead in his tracks and he instantly realizes his mistake; he’s in a hospital. Doctors, nurses, patients, families, and friends litter the building. He has led one of the most dangerous creatures in the universe into a hospital. He growls loudly in frustration, which grants him many strange looks, however he bounds down the hallway in an attempt to find another exit.

Halfway down the hall, he suddenly remembers something. _Their one and only weakness. This could work!_ He quickly turns a corner, reading the labels as he runs past the doors.

103\. 105. Janitor Closet. Doctor Sawyer. 107. 109…

_Come on. Come on!_

He is aware of a pair of feet clanking on the plastic floors behind him.

“Hey! You!”

 _Of course they called security_ , he sighs, _I don’t have time for this!_

He passes through a pair of red doors that were slightly ajar, ignoring the guard behind him, and continues to quickly glance at the labels. This hallway looks promising with multiple surgery rooms.

The guard yells again, attempting to catch up, “I command you to stop!”

The Doctor spots an empty surgery room and pushes through the doors. A nurse starts at the loud intrusion by the sink but he ignores her. He jogs over to the different machines surrounding the surgical table and begins to deconstruct one.

“What in Merlin’s name? You’ll destroy those machines!”

The Doctor rolls his eyes as he quickly glances at the nurse who is still frozen by the sink. “Many people will be destroyed if I don’t get what I need. Now will you get out? I need to concentrate.”

His fingers dance over the cords as he hears the nurse’s slippers rapidly patter out the door. He pulls out his sonic from his suit jacket to meld the initial pieces together and his mind begins to chart out a plan. As his invention of chords and metal starts to come together, the door swings open and a panting male voice yells, “What the HELL are you doing?!”

The Doctor doesn’t even look up as he continues to work, “I am busy, as you can see, and I would appreciate some peace and quiet if y-”

The man roughly grabs his shoulders and shoves him to the floor.  Startled, the Doctor stares up at the white coated man. _Blond, light eyes, stress underneath them, lighter skin, muscular, definitely ex-military, the cane meaning a limp, though being ex-military probably means psychosomatic…_

“I don’t know what you’re doing here,” the human doctor enunciates harshly, “but you’d better have a good explanation, Sherlock Holmes, or there will be more hell to pay than you have ever known.”


	4. Cancelled yet Still Continued

Hi all!

I just wanted to let you know that I will not be continuing this story. It's been awhile since I've worked on it and have since moved onto other writing adventures.

HOWEVER, if you are saying to yourself 'But but I LOVED this idea!' then you'll be happy to know that it is being continued by Drawing_WritingLady who I have given permission to take full control of the story and make it their own. I've already read the first chapter and it is pretty good, if I do say so myself. You'll see that the link is "Works Inspired by This One" and you'll get to read away to your heart's content!

Yours truly,

Ray

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea of the 12th Doctor regenerating into Sherlock's body as well as a bit of his personality. This was just a shot in the dark however I actually really liked it. Let me know what you think! :)


End file.
